God of all fathers, but the rain felt good on his face. He stood quietly in the dark parking lot, helmet held loosely in one hand as he tilted his face to the crying skies, letting the warm drops trickle into his hair. The faded light from the street lamps attempted feebly to lighten the dark planes of his face but they were too far away, the light too dim to reach. Sighing softly into the night, his shoulders slumped unknowingly as his fingers came up to rake through the dampness of his hair.

So tired. Awake so early in the mornings, the stretching of his mind to understand all the things he needed to know at the university. Then time for a quick bite if he was lucky and then here, to work til near midnight, his mind distorted in more prosaic ways as he coped with shallow co-workers and oblivious bosses. The daily dramas of their lives swirled around him but touched him so little. Cynically he wondered if anything at all showed in his eyes when they tried to involve him in their little games. He tried not to think about it, it only made him feel incredibly old when he allowed himself to remember how little he cared about anything, or anyone.

Untrue, a small thought in his mind retorted, worming up from the darkness of his thoughts. A small smile broke over his smooth lips, bending his face into a softer line. He needed to see her, he decided abruptly. His intense loneliness narrowed to a sharp arrow of intent, pointing the way to the one place where it had once been assuaged. Damn the hour, he wasn't entirely powerless. Just to look at her would be enough, to still the cravings in his unquiet heart.

Long fingers casually fitted the helmet over his rain-darkened hair as strong legs curved over the gleaming metal with the ease of long familiarity. Knowing fingers brought it to life beneath him and the shadow of his figure roared away into the night, leaving the fading light behind.

He parked the motorcycle quietly about a half a block from her silent house. Removing the helmet casually, he leaned it against his leg while his thoughtful blue eyes traced the ordinary outline of the structure. Maybe this wasn't going to be as easy as he thought - he realised ruefully that he had no idea which room she slept it, or if it even had a window. The voice of his normal caution was screaming arpeggios in his ear but tonight he recklessly didn't care. It had felt so good to hold her, her sweet breath under his lips - damned if he was going to let a little thing like a dark house stop him. Decided again, he swung a lean leg over the bike and hooked the helmet on the bars - hopefully it would still be there when he came back. A heady delight thrilled along his spine. The idea of trespassing on forbidden territory, the reward at the end in the light of her eyes ... he'd risked more for less.

One strong hand he placed on the top of the enclosing fence and a moment later he stood in her quiet yard. It was hushed and brooding, the dark face of the house looming before him with blind, accusing windows. He shrugged away the momentary discomfort, resettling his shoulders in his leather jacket. He prowled cautiously to the left, the porch roof seemed a good place to start since he could step from it to the eave proper and the main roofline. He needed both hands this time to climb the porch stanchion, but moments later he had gained his vantage point.

His smile was sweet and wry - cat burglar would have been a great occupation for one of his innate skills. Good thing he was so honest. Treading lightly, he gracefully stepped over the adjoining valley onto the narrowly sloping roof. It wouldn't do to fall now. He edged carefully over the tiles, boots not made for this kind of venture terrifyingly smooth on the rough surface. A sharp sound on the street below made him freeze into position, infinitely grateful that everything he wore was black on black. The unidentified clatter faded away (a cat? a sleepwalker?) and he breathed slowly again, his heart falling back into a less arrested rhythm. He inched his way up to the first window.

The god of his fathers smiled down on an errant son - it was her window. The pale moonlight crept in over his shoulders onto the vague bed and he could see long blonde hair glimmering faintly against the cover. With a shadowed face he contemplated the window itself - it latched on the inside but at least it would open upwards. He grinned sardonically at himself - if it had been a casement, he would have had real trouble. Steel fingers went to the sill - if it was really locked, he might have to do a little kinesis to get it open. Luck graced him again and the glass gave easily to his prying hands, lifting upwards almost silently. The sound of the jamb seemed terribly loud to his sensitive ears but the shadowed girl never stirred and even the cat at her bedside failed to prick its ears. He shifted to the side to allow the window to open fully and then with lean hands he gripped the frame and reached with one long leg to the floor.

Deep in her dream, something was wrong. There was a shadow that hadn't been there a moment ago, a trill along her skin that whisperered danger, danger. With reflexes conditioned by long fighting, Luna woke to see the dark form bending terribly through the open window, its shuttered face a deep blackness in the light streaming over its shoulders, its intent gaze fixed firmly on her mistress.

She was on her feet in an instant, compact body already tensing to defend, to protect. An instinctive warning growl was welling in her chest and throat, blocking the words she might have said instead. Sharp claws pricked the bedspread and her tail lashed back and forth as she crouched to spring at the youma.

"Hush kitty," rolled a queerly familiar voice over her ears as a rough hand came down to stroke her head. The hair that had raised in threat response suddenly lay flat as she recoiled in shock, flattening herself to the bed under the quick caress. Her feline senses came to the fore and the smell of that brief touch told her his identity, immobilizing her effectively in confusion. What was going on here?

Mamoru was ruefully glad the cat hadn't put up more of a fuss. Even though it was still staring at him with baleful eyes it had stopped making spitting noises. He turned his attention to the still form under the covers. A faint snore reached his ears and he grinned, his eyes lightening with amusement. So precious she was. He leaned over the bed casually and her warm sleeping scent wafted up to tickle his nostrils. He had known it so briefly before when she had slept in his arms. He brushed warm lips against her cheek, revelling in the intoxicating smoothness of her skin.

She gave a deep sigh and snuggled deeper into the covers, one hand stealing up to rest on her pillow. He kissed her again, this time managing to get a mouthful of hair at her temple. Pulling back, he raised a hand to brush the tangled silk away from her face, revealing the smudges of her closed eyes and the pertness of her nose. He gazed down dreamily at her, the long muscles of his body relaxing as he watched her sleep. She sighed again and then rolled over a little onto her back, exposing her sweet lips to his fascinated gaze, the sweet curve of her shoulder falling away into shadow. It was too great a temptation and he rested his weight on his hands as he leaned down again to claim his prize.

They were soft butterfly kisses, more promise than intent, and she softened under his touch, responding vaguely through her dreams. Unaware of anything other than the soft breath of her again, he lowered himself closer to the bed, leaning to kiss her again and again. He forgot the angry cat, her parents sleeping in the next room, even the loneliness that had driven him here. It was enough that he was with her, that in a moment she would waken and he would see her silvered blue eyes again.

His hair disarranged itself and fell a little into his eyes. It brushed her face, they were so close, and she wrinkled her nose at him. He kissed her again slowly and knew the moment she crossed over from dreams to reality. Her lips were suddenly not so pliant but infinitely warmer and she moved her kiss under his mouth. He raised his head and watched as she opened confused eyes.

The shadows in the muted room were in her eyes and she stared at him as if at a stranger. He smiled down at her and she moved her head to look at the room - no doubt reassuring herself as to where she was. Her soft eyes returned to him and then finally he saw a trembling smile at the corners of her mouth as she reached up tentatively to caress his face. He lowered his weight and pinned her gently underneath his body, the sound of creaking leather filling the small space. He revelled in the feel of her young form beneath his and he nuzzled her neck, felt her arms wrap around his shoulders, delicated fingers beginning to thread through his hair.

"Missed you, beautiful," he whispered huskily, directing his words into the coolness of her throat. The pulse of her life fluttered crazily through the thin skin and he couldn't resist the urge to plant a small kiss there.

"I'm not dreaming am I?" she whispered back mazedly. "You're really here?"

In response he raised himself up to kiss her again, lingering long moments lost in the taste of her love. Finally they broke apart and he rolled himself slightly over to the other side of her narrow bed. He reached up and stroked the fine curve of her jaw with his thumb, letting it slide over the parted lips that shocked him with their softness. "I'm here," he said finally. The moon peered in through the window and bathed the two in soft light. She reached up a wondering hand and brushed away the errant waves of his hair. He smiled and tried to kiss her hand.